


Baby Don't Leave Me Hanging (Dorian, it is your own damn fault)

by MountainRose



Series: The Argument of Periapsis [6]
Category: Almost Human
Genre: Alien Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Tentacles, Xenobiology, You guys know the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MountainRose/pseuds/MountainRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gives Dorian the blowjob of his life, to make up for falling asleep on him after a sex marathon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Don't Leave Me Hanging (Dorian, it is your own damn fault)

Dorian had been a tease all day, glowing through his off-duty clothes at inopportune moments and making it very clear that he was enjoying the, ah, increased “freedom” of the loose material. It didn’t help that they were _John’s_ clothes, either, because he could _very clearly see_ the outline of Dorian’s cocks against the fabric, wriggling and touching it positively curiously while Dorian peered down at his crotch and fiddled with the waistband.

“Dorian. What are you-- you know what, I’m not gonna ask. Nope.” John turned his back firmly and brought up the case notes -- _what was that noise._

John looked around to see Dorian glowing right through the pants and giving John the most expectant, manipulative, imploringly _sad_ look.

“No.”

“But I--”

“Honest to god, Dorian I cannot get it up,” he grumbled, “Jhesus, don’t make a guy say it, but _three times?!_ No.”

Dorian shuffled, his antennae hiding behind his ears in, what? Guilt? Sadness? Combination thereof? It plucked at the heart strings, anyway, and John could already feel himself relenting.

“If I’d known there was a biological limit, I would have ...taken my time less.”

John huffed and turned back to the desk briefly, just to dismiss the notes and click his phone line over to privacy mode. “Next time, buddy, next time. Research edging, we’ll have a blast.”

Dorian brightened, flickers of blue lancing over his antennae as the perked up in John’s direction. “What are you doing?”

“I am going to see just how far I can take you. Since I won’t be distracted.” He stripped off his shirt in one smooth movement and flashed a grin at his partner as he dropped it in the middle of the floor.

“But you are not aroused,” Dorian said. His eyes were fixed on John’s chest, probably his nipples. Dorian didn’t have nipples, and was fascinated by the sensations he could pick up from John when they got tweaked. John wasn’t going to complain, though it’d probably be less enjoyable when he was this fucked out. He’d keep Dorian distracted.

“You are, and I want to see you come without coming my own brains out, out of biofeedback.”

Dorian looked thoughtful. “I could masturbate?”

John choked, halfway through kneeling, one hand on Dorian’s knee for balance. His cocks were pulling back, not _in_ , but away from the front of his pants. “Could I watch?”

Dorian made a displeased face, and John jumped in before he could say “no” out loud. “Then keep your hands to yourself.”

“That sentence doesn’t make--”

“Dorian.”

“Yes, John?”

“Shut up and let me get you off.”

“Yes, John.”

He grinned up at his idiot alien partner and laid his palms on the inside of his knees, just to push them apart a little, give himself room to kneel up and give Dorian an affectionate kiss. Which, if the hint of antennae on his temples was any indication, was appreciated.

He trailed his hands up Dorian’s legs, grinning into his mouth, and was met by the desperate curl of a cock through the fabric. “C’mon, lets get these off, hmm?” He tugged at the drawstrings, the very tip of a tentacle pushing at the waistband from the inside.

“Impatient.”

“John,” Dorian panted, shifting and pushing the pants down with clumsy speed. “John, _you passed out on me._ ”

“ _Dorian_ , I’m human, ‘roll over and sleep’ is a natural reaction after _one_ orgasm; you stayed in me for three. What did you expect?” The alien groaned and thumped his head back against the back of the couch, face flashing too fast for John’s slowly growing vocabulary. “Have you been this worked up ever since?”

Dorian groaned. “ _Yes_.”

John paused, because he hadn’t realised, and that was pretty bad form. That was in fact, _terrible_ form. But it was Dorian’s fault, mostly, because John had definitely felt Dorian come at least twice, even if the third time was a bit of a blur, and how was he to know that the idiot was holding off on coming properly?

He leaned up and nuzzled against Dorian’s forehead, encouraging him to take a look. It was easier than trying to say it out loud. Dorian huffed against his cheek, his hand coming up to cradle the back of John’s neck.

“Not-apology accepted.”

Relieved and pleased that they understood each other, John sank back onto his heels. “Did’ya see?”

Dorian flickered a happy blue, from groin to throat in a wave bright enough to show through his clothes. “I did.”

John grinned and, keeping eye contact, leaned down to kiss Dorian’s thigh. He tried to give every impression of taking his time, Dorian had waited that long, right? But he wasn’t planning to draw it out too much because, bastard or not, that was a dick move.

Dorian was grumbling and shifting around, unable to keep still even with John’s hands anchoring his thighs to the couch and enough was enough; John pulled the human-style clothes down Dorian’s hips. The shields of heavy carbon shell on outer hip and thigh needed special handling or the fabric would catch, but John had had plenty of practice navigating Dorian’s everything.

John raised an eyebrow at the bright blue light Dorian’s ridges were giving off; if Dorian had had testicles that could go blue, this would be a _golden moment_. But he, “they,” didn’t, and John wasn’t going to make Dee wait just so he could explain what made him pause.

He dropped the pants and slid his hands up Dorian’s legs and was met by a desperate cock half way up his thigh.

“Hey buddy...” John murmured, grinning to himself at the sheer _absurdity_ of having a preference for Dorian’s left cock, over his right one. They were both... pretty great and all, but Dee always used his left to do the actual penetrating when John was bottoming. He gave the questing tentacle the rub it was after and Dorian groaned and thumped the couch with a closed fist.

John looked up, hand firmly on Dorian’s pelvis with one cock around his wrist and the other in his fingers. “All right?”

Dorian gave him a wild-eyed, incredulous stare before dropping his head back against the cushions. John snorted and rubbed his thumb at the juncture of the two cocks, where they overlapped, just outside his hole. He was slick, the flesh bright with blood and luminescence, and _hot_. John’s mouth watered and, fucked out or not, his cock made a valiant attempt at getting in on the action.

Dorian flinched as John’s thumb slipped between the tentacles and into his cunt, reaching for John’s shoulders with both hands. He held on like he was about to float away and John backed off; he was wound so tight, John was worried he’d just go off, unsatisfied.

“John, Jo-- please don’t _tease me, you--_ ”

John clucked his tongue and swept a firm circle around the edges of Dorian’s cunt, brushing over the base of each cock and stealing the air right out of D’s lungs. “What was that?”

“ _Please-!_ ” Dorian’s grip turned seam-ripping tight and John smirked to himself and obeyed by leaning in and running his tongue up the seam between the two cocks. They rippled under his tongue in a way that was entirely alien, yet still felt perfect to him, and John let the left sneak its way into his mouth. He met it with plenty of tongue and gentle suction and encouraged Dorian to thrust to the back of his throat. Dorian’s slick made everything smooth, easy to take, even while it made John’s mouth sloppy and debauched.

Dorian’s other cock, palmed in John’s hand, writhed away and curled against John’s throat, where the skin was thin and soft below the level of his stubble. Concentrating, John closed his eyes and swallowed, opening his throat to Dorian and letting the narrow tip deep while he closed his lips around the base. The two cocks met, one inside, one outside, and John felt them glowing through his eyelids.

“-- _ohn, John, Jo--_ ”

Dorian’s hands clenched and released on his shoulders, then threaded into his hair, and John swallowed, and swallowed, fighting off his gag reflex as Dorian’s writhing set it back off.

Dorian didn’t _thrust_ , exactly; he would for John, but it wasn’t what his body needed most. Instead, his cocks rubbed and pushed deep and _undulated_ , and John could barely breath because he was too focused on the pulsing of Dorian’s cock on his tongue, on the reciprocal pressure on his throat.  

Dorian’s constant whimpers, John’s name, imprecations, pleas, filtered through as John blinked a few stray drops from his eyes and a flash of heat went through him, because they were only half way there, for Dorian.  

His hands, one braced on Dorian’s thigh for balance, and the other against his groin, shook with the roiling of the nyvon’s hips. John slid his fingers through the hot slick that was leaking all over the place in preparation. Dorian’s receptive parts were as different from a human’s as his cocks were, tighter but more elastic. Deeper, far deeper. John’s fingers, as he slid them in to the sound of a hair-pulling groan, would never truly be able to reach the places a nyvon cock would but that wasn’t a problem because--

“ _Kuring meriken-! You--!_ ”

\--all the important nerve endings were in reach. He pushed blunt fingers against the root of Dorian’s cocks, rubbing circles like he would for a clit, but with the firm pressure a cock could take. Over and over, he stroked and rubbed and each time, the cock in his mouth throbbed, stiffened, and pushed deep enough to make his eyes water again.

John’s own pants felt impossibly tight; he hadn’t imagined that he could get hard again, but _fuck him_ , this was doing the trick.

He added a third finger, spreading them to find the tight ring of muscle beyond Dorian’s cocks, and Dorian’s hips jerked, pushing John’s fingers deeper and making his jaw creak. Saliva and slick dripped down his chin and John had to take a second to swallow around the tip of Dorian’s cock before he could take it back down. It went easier, sliding against his lips and tongue with purpose, familiarity.

John kept pressure against Dorian’s sweet spot as he stretched slowly at first, in pulses, until Dorian was breathing in time and _keening_ for it, for more, and his cocks were pressing hard and insistent against John’s throat.

It wouldn't take much after that, but John wasn't going for small game.

He freed his other hand, balancing on his knees for a little while, and slid a finger in below the other three; the extra stretch of four fingers, the heavy press of his tongue on the underside of Dorian’s cock, and Dorian was coming hard.

The muscles around John’s fingers clenched, holding him deep inside, and come rushed down his throat from Dorian’s left cock, and splattered over his collarbones from the other. Dorian tasted, rather unglamorously, like the ocean and the smell of freshly cut grass, but it was like John was _programmed_ to find the flavor “stimulating” because he swallowed it down like bourbon.

Served him right for leaving Dorian worked up for so long.

Satisfied and relaxing, the cocks started slipping back into Dorian’s body and John unseized his jaw so he could lick the stray come off his lips. D was still breathing hard, staring blindly at the ceiling, but he didn’t get over sensitized after sex; all the vulnerable surfaces slipped away to safe havens inside his body, and John was free to lick and kiss everything in reach.

“Better?” he mumbled into the un-armoured skin of Dorian’s inner thigh.

Dorian groaned and patted John’s head clumsily.

John was gonna take that as a yes.

  
FIN


End file.
